On Night Hikes and Why Being Alone in the Dark with Your Dog Isn't Always a Bad Idea

Because someone new
Because I am afraid
Because I am not in control
Because I am tired
Because the dark
Because I am nervous for the unknown
Because sometimes the things I desire are very far away
Because I am still hopeful
Because I am not easily charmed
Because I fall too quickly
Because she is one of my best friends
Because I still want to adopt
Because "I see that I'm a little piece in a big, big universe. And that makes things right."

Also, cohesion.

Things I Wish Would Happen But Will Most Likely Not Be Today, Etc.

Though I hate to acknowledge/these things take time/They cannot be rushed/or fast-forwarded/or ambushed into action/(which is what I'd prefer they do)/Perhaps for now we can sit/Walk the lake/Hope for good things for people who are not ourselves/And maybe "3rd times the charm,"/or 4th/or 5th/or maybe no charms/Just a peace and hope for what is to come/But still trying to be okay with the quiet,/the sadness,/the humility of solitude.

I loved the softness in his voice,
but mostly I loved the softness of his heart:
how every sparrow mattered,
every orphaned kitten needed a home.
I didn't expect we'd go very far together,
and yet,
I still smell his mouth,
still feel his shadow hovering
over my kneeling frame,
offering those babies a saucer of milk.

water babys

It`s hard to believe
that you are coming
home after a day
at the lake.
Your cheeks swollen red,
your tiny fists sticky
&grabby for my
snarling hair;
your lips pucker &
eyes squeezed tight
taking a lion-sized
yawn...

It`s hard to believe
you have only been
here for 377 days; a
little sunlight, a
little rain, a little rest,
&hours of anxious nights:
I spy your papa in the
corner there--proud of
his accomplishments,
the feats of that day.

So, whisking you upwards
and releasing you to the sky;
I wait for your
heart to fall back in
to my rocking-chaired arms.

july third, two thousand seven

"&I dreamed of syrupy fingered innocence, stickers on the car windows, laughing, crying, unbroken circles of families in sundresses & linen pants & camping, fishing & gardening & standing up for the softer ones, & gentleness & scrabble, orange juice, & "have a sunny side up day" notes in lunch boxes, and resting & moving & mattering & selflessness as constant as my mother`s arms, in a world not made for families & black sheeps, but we are these things, and have made it a home, anyway."

32578.

if you were me &i were you,
i`d tell you what i`d do:
i`d crumble up those silly rules,
&sail right back to you.

lisa scandrette.

there`s something to be said about a woman like you.
there`s something to be said about the lady who has been adventuring for so long, since so young.
there`s something to be said about the trust of rejoicing when mark speaks to college-aged students.
&highschoolers.
&middleschoolers.
there`s something to be said about quiet confidence, &living in a greater wholeness, than the author himself(?)!
i met you once.
i don`t exactly know what i expected from you.
you seemed happily content, supervising the stew &tomato dicing.
we exchanged no words, even.
perhaps a knowing glance. once.
what was it about you, then?
what is it that is so freely able to sidle up next to another beating heart, &say, "yes, yes, this. this is living."
what is it in you that dances so harmoniously to the chords of the Holy Spirit?
what is it about your spirit, as eager as a child`s, that says,
"yes, Lord! oh! pick me! pick me!"

please pick me, then too, sweet Jesus.